Geeks that Go Bump in the Night
by Midnight Caller
Summary: Grissom and Sara test each other's spook-factors.


"Hairy, Creepy Things, and Geeks that Go Bump in the Night"  
By Midnight Caller  
  
Disclaimer: CBS and all those fairly wealthy people own all these characters, and honestly, the way I play with 'em, I really don't even think I'm borrowing the same ones. Theirs are much more interesting.  
  
Summary: Grissom and Sara test each other's spook-factors. Gratuitous UST followed by ultra-gratuitous UST. Hint, hint, Anthony! (BTW, this turned out a heck of a lot longer than I thought it would. ::shrugs:: It's a short-ish story.)  
  
Rating: PG-13   
  
********  
  
  
Working on Halloween was never fun. It was always the longest, weirdest shift out of the whole year, and at this point, a nice, long nap was in order, even for Sara Sidle.   
  
She was just turning the engine over in her car when her phone rang. Sighing heavily, she threw the car into park and searched through her pockets for the source of the blaring beep. She didn't even check the caller ID before angrily punching the "talk" key.  
  
"Sidle."  
  
"...Sara?"  
  
She managed to hold the snappy comeback when she realized who it was. "Hey, Grissom."  
  
"You haven't left the lab yet, have you?"   
  
Oh, God, now what? "Actually, I was just leaving to go h-- out."  
  
There was a long pause before she heard him speak again. "On a date?"  
  
She squinted at no one in particular, and twisted her mouth. "Did you want something, Grissom?"  
  
"Oh, yeah, I left Peter at the lab, and I thought maybe you do me a huge favor and drop him off at my apartment for me. I'm sure he's starving by now."  
  
She cocked her head, perhaps to make sure her ears were working properly. "...Peter?"  
  
*****  
  
  
Standing at the far end of his office, she stared at the glass case on the desk. There's no way he expects me to pick him up, no way. Look at him. Just... LOOK AT HIM. She shuddered at the mere thought of coming any closer, but she'd promised Grissom. Wincing and gritting her teeth, she took baby steps until she finally reached the end of the desk, and then slowly extended her hand. Peter shuffled to the other side of his container, his tiny spider hairs standing on edge. Holding the glass as far from her body as possible, Sara picked up the case and walked out of the room, never taking her eyes off the creature inside.   
  
  
*****  
  
  
Sara stared at Peter at every opportunity on the way over to Grissom's, just to make sure he didn't somehow escape from the glass and end up scaring the crap out of her by suddenly appearing on the steering wheel, or on her shoulder.   
  
She performed her same baby-step-to-holding-out-arm technique while transporting him from the passenger seat to the front door of Grissom's town home.   
  
Grissom stared at her when he opened the door, and Sara quickly handed Peter over to his rightful owner. She shuddered and wiped her hands on her jeans to rid them of any ... well, she didn't quite know why she did it, but it made her feel a little less creeped out.   
  
Stepping aside, he gestured inside. "You want something to drink for your troubles? Water? Soda? Coagulated blood?"   
  
Sara smirked and stepped inside. "Water's fine."  
  
On his way to the kitchen, Grissom chuckled and peeked in at his pet. "I think he likes you - see how he's pressed up against the glass?"   
  
Sara looked almost revolted, but a brief smile flashed over her face, and she leaned against the counter.   
  
As he poured a glass of water, he gazed up over his glasses at her. "Are you really that scared of spiders?"   
  
She suddenly stood up, defensive. "I'm not scared of them. I just don't... particularly... care for them."   
  
Grissom handed her the glass, a tinge of disappointment lurking behind the plan that was slowly forming in his eyes. Sara squinted at him, instantly suspicious. She followed him as he walked back over to where Peter's cage was sitting on the counter, and she took a step back when he opened the top of the case.   
  
"Grissom..." she quietly warned, watching with some strange mix of curiosity and repulsion as he liberated the spider, and set him down on his arm.   
  
"He's so gentle, Sara, it's fascinating."   
  
Her eyes were so focused on the legs and the hair crawling around less than a few feet away, that she didn't even notice how close Grissom had gotten. Within a few moments he was standing right next to her, and by then it was too late - she was pinned against the counter with no way out.   
  
Peter crawled onto Grissom's palm, and suddenly Sara's eyes shot upward. Grissom was staring at her, one eyebrow raised.   
  
"No, Grissom." Not only was the spider too close, but now Grissom was also practically standing on top of her. She tried as hard as she could to ignore his heat, his presence, the short, stubbly beginnings of his five o'clock shadow. She took a deep breath, trying to calm herself.  
  
"He's very gentle, Sara, you can barely even feel him," he cooed, reaching out for her hand. She waved it around until he was able to grab a hold of her wrist. He raised another eyebrow, and she reluctantly gave in. She clenched her jaw as Grissom brought his own hand closer, closer... closer... until finally, their fingertips touched. She stole a quick glance at him, finding him intently watching her.   
  
Biting her lip, she returned her eyes to Peter, who was quickly bridging the gap between their hands. With his two front legs, Peter hesitantly felt Sara's fingers, and then took a step... then another... and then another, until he was resting squarely in the center of her palm.   
  
Sara took just a moment to look at Grissom, and saw him wearing an ear-to-ear smirk. She was about to say something when she realized her own mouth was engaged in a similar behavior. She tried to purse her lips to disguise the smile, but it was too late.   
  
"I think you made your point," she practically whispered, desperate to fill the air that was growing hotter with each passing second.   
  
Grissom leaned his head even closer. "I wasn't trying to make a point, Sara... I just wanted you to try something new..."  
  
She lowered her eyes, and tried to ease the spider off her hand. With a little prodding from Grissom, Peter crawled back onto his fingers. Sara's eyes caught his once more before he finally backed away, clearing his throat. He opened the case and gently put Peter back in his home.   
  
Sara grabbed her glass from the counter and gulped a mouthful of water. She looked around the apartment and finally noticed the flickering blue of the television set.   
  
"What are you watching?"  
  
Grissom looked up from his pet. "Oh, one of those Halloween specials on Discovery. Serial killers, ghosts, that kind of thing."  
  
Sara smirked. "I never figured you for one of those."  
  
"One of what?" he asked, cocking his head.  
  
"One of those people who believes in that kind of stuff."  
  
"So you don't believe in an afterlife," he stated more than asked, leaning his hip against the center island.   
  
She pushed up with her arms and sat on the top of the counter. "I believe in souls. I believe in God. I even believe in the remote possibility of reincarnation. I don't, however, believe in ghouls, goblins, vampires, werewolves, or any kind of... exaggerated supernatural phenomenon." He was staring at her. "Do you?"  
  
"Well, as a scientist, I chalk up most paranormal and supernatural occurrences to blatant ignorance on society's part. Healing crystals, astrology as personality, energy jewelry and talismans -- I'm not talking about that kind of thing. What I am talking about is... well... let's just say I've had a close encounter or two with things I just couldn't explain..."  
  
Now it was her turn to stare. "I can't believe I'm hearing this from you, Grissom. You -- not being able to explain something?"  
  
He was beginning to get slightly irritated, and he suddenly felt extremely vulnerable. He turned away from her and pretended to clean his countertop.   
  
She watched him carefully, and shifted her weight where she was sitting. "Well, now you've got me way too intrigued..."  
  
All she got from him was a raised eyebrow.   
  
"Come on, Grissom..." She slid off the counter and sidled over to him. He turned up his nose and kept cleaning. She kept trying to take away the sponge he was using, and eventually, she snatched it from his grasp.   
  
"Tell me," she demanded.  
  
He ignored her and walked into the living room, flopping down on his couch. She sat down right next to him, foiling his plan. The blue light from the TV continued to flicker around the room like an azure candle.   
  
He felt a warm hand on his shoulder, and he finally looked away from the screen. She was much closer than he thought, and he suddenly couldn't catch his breath.  
  
"Tell me," she pleaded, her brown eyes wide and inviting.   
  
His eyes suddenly narrowed, and he smirked. "I hope you don't spook easily, Sara."  
  
She gave him an, 'Oh, please' face. "That sounds like a challenge... I accept."   
  
Grissom shut off the TV, plunging the room into what at first seemed like total darkness. The dim bulb of a nearby table lamp bled its weak energy hopelessly into the surrounding black. Sara could just make out Grissom's face a foot or two away.  
  
"Mood lighting is not going to help your story, you know."   
  
He gave her a look. "What I'm about to tell you is true, but the names have been changed to protect the innocent."   
  
"Uh-huh," she interrupted. "Quit stalling."  
  
"Alright then. About twenty years ago I was at a friend's house in California--"  
  
"Man or woman?"  
  
"What difference does it make?"  
  
"It makes a huge difference, Grissom. Man or woman?"  
  
He sighed. "Woman. So, anyway, I was over--"  
  
"Was she your girlfriend?"   
  
"Sara..."  
  
"Was she your girlfriend?"  
  
He took a deep breath through his nose. "I... saw her from time to time."  
  
"That's a yes," she muttered.  
  
"Can I finish, please?" He heard her mumble an apology. "She had told me that her parents' house was haunted. At first I didn't believe her; she was 'one of those,' you might say."  
  
"Mmmm... whatever." Sara interjected.   
  
"In the den, there was this strange, oval-shaped stain on the wall. This... odd greenish yellow color that just wouldn't come off. Paint, wallpaper -- nothing worked. The stain would just seep through whatever they put on top of it. They even knocked the wall down and rebuilt it, but the stain came back."  
  
"Did they try bleach?"  
  
"I'm... not sure."  
  
"What about--?"  
  
"May I continue?"   
  
Sara grunted in response.   
  
"Anyway, one night, we were sitting in her living room, much like you and I are sitting here on this couch." He lowered his voice, and scooted just the slightest bit closer, his thigh brushing hers. "She told me to be very quiet, and then pointed across the room to the basement door. Within a matter of seconds, the air in the room suddenly got very thick, and I almost couldn't breathe. I looked straight ahead, and practically froze..."  
  
Sara leaned forward, anticipating the next sentence. When it didn't come right away, she blinked, and then remembered to swallow. "And...? What happened?"  
  
Grissom smirked. "Just making sure you're listening."   
  
She glared and smacked him lightly on the arm.   
  
"Alright, alright... so I was looking across the room, and all of a sudden, a hand comes through the door, followed quickly by an arm, then a head... and pretty soon, this old man is just... standing there, looking right at us."   
  
"Did he do anything?"  
  
"He looked at us, walked right through the couch where we were sitting, and then disappeared through the wall in the same spot where the stain was."  
  
"Right through the couch, eh?"  
  
"Straight through us." Grissom swung his arm between them, brushing against her leg.  
  
Sara's mouth hung slightly open, her eyes wide. She blinked a few times, and then ran her tongue along her upper lip, squinting her eyes.   
  
"That was... a decent effort."  
  
He pulled back slightly. "Excuse me?"  
  
"I thought you said this story was supposed to spook me."  
  
"I wasn't done yet."  
  
"You sounded done. Wall. Stain. Old man. Pretty standard ghost stuff here, Grissom. I was expecting like... something really, really creepy."  
  
He sat back against the cushions and clicked his tongue against the top of his mouth. "I thought it was pretty chilling. Guess you had to be there."  
  
She pushed her shoulders back, sitting up straight. "I want you to scare me so badly I won't be able to go home alone without having a serious freak-out."  
  
"So, telling you about the bloody apparition in chains and rotting flesh floating just behind your head wouldn't do that, huh?"  
  
She almost turned -- almost. The temptation to just put her mind at ease was enormous, especially in the low-lit room. But she refused to give in to the screaming anxiety in the back of her mind to let him win.   
  
"Nice try."  
  
He shrugged. "So you want creepy."  
  
She sounded out the word slowly, adding a head bobble. "Creepy."  
  
His lips turned up, a light forming in his eyes. He leaned toward her. "So be it."  
  
She crossed her arms defiantly, and leaned back against the armrest. "Give it to me."  
  
Grissom cracked his knuckles and smiled.   
  
"Upstairs from the room with the stain was the sister's room. She was younger, I think in middle or high school at the time. Bright kid. I think she's a vet now somewhere in Topeka. Anyway, walking into her room was like... walking into a meat locker. It was always just around 40 degrees in there during the entire year, even summer. You'd walk in and you could see your breath, it was unbelievable. I mean, it could be 115 outside and it would still be 40 degrees "  
  
"Got it - cold room."   
  
He sighed. "Anyway, the sister at the time was kind of into spells and witchcraft, that type of thing. Not really as part of a cult - she just read a lot about it - had a Ouji Board, Tarot cards, the works. So a lot of times, her friends would come over, and they'd do all these nonsensical little rituals in her room, in her bathroom, trying to conjure spirits or what-have-you. Well, one night, three of them went into the bathroom to try and summon the spirit of some ghost they had read about."  
  
He looked around the room at this point as if he had heard something, and Sara watched him with an intensity that almost frightened her.   
  
"Go on," she whispered, trying to disguise the cracking of her voice.  
  
"So they shut the door, turned off the light, and then attempted to conjure this ghost by repeating his name twelve times in a row. When they turned back on the light, the sister swears she saw the image of the phantom in the mirror for just the briefest of seconds."  
  
"Sounds like Bloody Mary..." She rolled her eyes.  
  
He shook his head.   
  
"Let me finish. That night, as the sister was lying in bed to go to sleep, her room suddenly got even colder than it normally was. We're talking ice crystals on the window, all that good stuff. Suddenly, a huge weight pressed down on her chest, and she could barely breathe. She tried to sit up, but something kept pushing her back down onto the bed, violently. She cried out desperately for her father, but could hardly get a syllable out before the weight on her chest got even heavier.   
  
"Somehow, her father heard her, and came running down the hall. Just as he tried to enter the room, her door slammed shut, effectively locking him out. The weight on the sister's chest got heavier and heavier, and her father banged and banged, trying to knock down the door.   
  
"Finally, he kicked it open, just in time to see his daughter being literally thrown across the room. And I mean, she flew at least ten feet, and hit the wall up near where it meets the ceiling.  
  
"The next day, they took her to the doctor. When she removed her shirt, she had two, dark, hand-shaped bruises on her chest, right about here," he demonstrated on himself. "That same day, they got a priest and exorcized the entire house."  
  
Sara finally broke her silence. "Did it work?"  
  
"Well, their church found out and excommunicated them from the congregation."  
  
"But did it work? The exorcism?"  
  
He smirked. "I don't know."   
  
"What?? You can't end the story like that."   
  
"Why not?"  
  
"Because I need to know if their house is still haunted."  
  
"Why?"   
  
"Because, otherwise it's too..."  
  
"Creepy?" he smiled.   
  
"I didn't say that."  
  
"Oh, but you wanted to."  
  
"Quiet, you. All I'm saying is that--"  
  
Suddenly, the room went black. All that could be heard was breathing and the quiet hiss of a recently blown bulb.   
  
"Ummmmmm," Sara's shaky voice called out.  
  
"Must be a power-outage," Grissom stated flatly. He was grinning into the darkness, imagining what Sara's face must look like.   
  
He heard the rustling of some cushions, and then sensed her very close to him, practically in his lap. A moment later, a hand fell upon his cheek, soft and warm. He closed his eyes.  
  
"Ah, there you are," she laughed, trying to hide the nervousness.  
  
"Here I am." He grinned again, especially when her hand found his and squeezed. "You're not afraid of the dark, are you?"  
  
"No, of course not," she scoffed, wrapping her fingers around his.  
  
They sat there in the dark for a few more moments before she spoke again. "You didn't plan this, did you? Because if you did, I might really have to hurt you."  
  
When he didn't answer right away, she squeezed a little harder with her fingers until he let out a quiet, "Ow!"   
  
"Grissom."  
  
"Of course I didn't plan this. Remember, I was watching TV before you came over and challenged me to scare you half to death."  
  
"Excuses..."  
  
"... So... did the story work?"  
  
"What?"  
  
"Are you... how'd you word it... 'Having a freak-out'?"  
  
"I don't have freak-outs. This isn't a freak-out... this is..."  
  
"A creep-out?" He was grinning again.  
  
Sara suddenly shoved at him out of pure instinct, but temporarily forgot she couldn't see her target. She instead found herself sprawled over his body, one hand grasping his, while the other lunged into the darkness above his head.   
  
He couldn't see her, but he didn't need to. Her hair fell around his cheeks like strands of silk, her body warm against his as she struggled to balance herself.   
  
Grissom found her other hand and then brought them together at his chest. Sara finally stopped squirming, and settled down on top of him.   
  
"Are you sure you're not afraid of the dark?" he breathed into her hair, and he felt a slight breeze as she whipped her head around to clear the hair from her face.  
  
"Are you sure you're not just filling the silence with inconsequential babbling so you won't feel awkward that I'm pinned against you on your couch, in your apartment, in total darkness?  
  
Well, that shut him up.   
  
She smiled to herself, but then the silence started to creep in around her, tightening her throat and muscles. She could still feel his heat against her body, but could barely hear him breathing. Or was that her breathing? A sudden panic washed over her.  
  
"Grissom?" she whispered.  
  
She could almost hear him smile. "Yes?" After a pause he continued, "Sorry. I'd hate to fill the silence with inconsequential babbling."  
  
Her mouth twisted in irritation, and she tried to smack him. But the more she fought against his hold, the harder he gripped her hands.  
  
"Grissom!" she protested, thrashing against him to get free. "Let me go!"  
  
"No," he replied, trying to hold back the laughter.  
  
"Let me go!"   
  
"No - you'll hit me."  
  
"Damn right, I will, let go!"  
  
And so they struggled on the couch, Sara fighting against his hold and Grissom fighting the strong urge to burst into laughter. Just when she was about to resort to an alternate plan of attack involving her mouth and a few well-placed knees, the lights flickered on.   
  
They both froze in place, the light reminding them of their fairly ridiculous circumstances. She stared at him staring at her, and then she pushed herself up to sitting.   
  
He finally released her, and she smoothed over her clothes with her hands.   
  
"I... should probably get going," she finally remarked, running fingers through her hair.  
  
He sat up straight, watching her, trying to think of something to say. "Uhh... unless you... maybe... want to watch the special on ghosts and haunted castles...?"  
  
She stopped fidgeting, and sat back into the cushions. She made sure he wasn't kidding, and then relaxed. "Okay."   
  
He reached for the remote and then pretended to adjust a pillow next to him, scooting closer to Sara in the process. "I hope it isn't too creepy for you," he teased, turning on the set.   
  
She didn't even look over. "Pray the lights don't go out again, Grissom... you won't get a hold of my hands this time."   
  
As the blue glow flickered around the room, her eyes darted over to his, and each of them simultaneously raised an eyebrow in response.   
  
Grissom smirked, and then settled in to watch his show.   
  
  
(fin.) 


End file.
